Through Time and Space I Found You
by Rule1thedoctorlies
Summary: Sherlock is a consulting detective from the eighteen hundreds and suddenly a blue box appears. He goes after it for a case only to be brought into 2014 where he meets John Watson. Sherlock is confused and doesn't understand how things work and he's frustrated.
1. Chapter 1

_1890_

Sherlock stood on his sofa, staring at his wall. Drawing after drawing of artwork all strewn about, they all consisted of the same thing: A blue box that disappeared. Sherlock had been working on this particular case for months! It all led to nowhere and he was frustrated! He rarely left his flat and he just stared at the wall all day. Theory after theory of how this box was possible, what the box did, why did it disappears. Everything! He was getting absolutely nowhere and on the verge of pulling his hair out.

Lestrade had eventually just stopped showing up with cases because he knew Sherlock wouldn't come. Normally, Sherlock would regret that, but this was something so unexplainable he couldn't just give up on it. He would search his whole life just to get answers! Every day he would sit and stare at his wall while he waited… Waited for a sound… A sound that would bring hope.

~O~

_1958_

"You _married_ Marilyn Monroe!" The red headed blinked in confusion and shock.

"It would appear so, yes… Though to be quite fair, Donna, it was a hell of a night and I'm pretty sure that I was drugged…" The Doctor trailed off.

"But you **_married_** Marilyn Monroe!" Donna blinked rapidly.

"Yes! We've discussed this already! She'll get over it! Heaven knows how many people she accidently married…" The Doctor let a smile tug at his lips as he looked at Donna.

Donna was silent for a long moment before she just burst out laughing. "Sometimes I question your sanity.." She snickered a bit and smiled at him.

"I question my sanity too sometimes." He smirked. "But I figure normal is very boring! Who would want to be normal anyway? I'd rather be extraordinary! Like Sherlock Holmes for example!" He grinned and leaned back against his railing.

"Yeah, but you can't count him." Donna rolled her eyes.

"And why not! I think that that's rather rude! Sherlock Holmes was a brilliant man!"

"He was rude, arrogant, and cocky! All around he was a bastard and frankly I think the author who wrote about him made him seem more brilliant than he actually was."

"He was lonely!" The Doctor protested and huffed. "Some people don't know how to deal with that sort of thing."

Donna sighed. "Maybe… But I still don't believe it… I wasn't really ever a fan of the books. I thought they were to… Fiction to be a nonfiction book.. That sort of stuff doesn't just happen.." She sighed.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Well why don't we go and give him a visit then?"

"Have you met him before?" She smirked and raised an eyebrow back at him.

"Uhhh… No.. But I hardly think that matters.."

"Oh.. It matters! Because once we get there you are going to be so disappointed." She snickered and leaned back as he flicked switches.

He stopped for a brief moment to look at her and then he grinned. "Donna Noble… You're on! Allons-y!"

~O~

_1890_

Sherlock was still standing on the sofa looking at the pictures he had drawn when he heard it. His eyes widened and he was completely shocked for a moment. He had no idea what to do, but then his legs finally caught up with his brain and he was running. He ran down the stairs and swung the door opened and then halted a bit as he saw the man with his hand raised about to knock on the door.

"Oh.. Well. What a lovely surprise!" The Doctor hummed.

"Yes! Yes, come in, please! I have so many questions I want to ask you, Doctor." He knew his name. He had no idea who the woman was, but he knew that this man was called The Doctor. He had asked around everywhere until someone finally knew what he was talking about. That was a good day.

Donna blinked a little bit. Sherlock was standing there smiling like a Cheshire cat. It was a bit unnerving in a way, but nevertheless she stepped into his flat with The Doctor by her side.

"So! How do you do it? How does it work! How can you make it disappear! It is so intriguing! You must, must, must tell me, Doctor!" Sherlock bounced eagerly on the balls of his feet.

The Doctor smiled brightly. "Donna! He knows who I am! Have we met before?"

"No! I'm just brilliant! I have been tracking you for months, Doctor, months! I need to know how it works!" He flailed a bit and was still grinning.

"Oh… My TARDIS? Oh she's brilliant!" The Doctor grinned.

"Yes! For god's sakes I got that! But how does it work!" He flailed more. "What does it do! What is it!"

"It stands for Time and Relative Dimension in Space. I think the name rather gives it away, but it travels through time and space! Anywhere you wanna go anytime!" He smirked as he watched Sherlock's face light up.

"Can.." Sherlock swallowed. "Can you show me, please.. I want to see." He said quietly.

The Doctor grinned brightly. "Of course! Come on then!" He smirked and walked out of the flat, knowing that Sherlock would follow him.

Sherlock did in fact follow The Doctor and Donna trailed behind them. When they got to the TARDIS' door The Doctor held it opened for Sherlock to step in first. He took a deep breath and slowly entered the TARDIS. He blinked rapidly and just took everything in. "How.. HOW is it doing that!" He asked as he heard The Doctor step inside.

"It's basically like you just stepped into another dimension." He explained and grinned. "The police box is just a camouflage. It doesn't really look like that."

Sherlock just nodded slowly and walked around the TARDIS for a second before he looked at The Doctor. "This is so amazing…." He whispered.

The Doctor smirked. "Wanna go somewhere?" He waggled his eyebrows and watched as a giant grin appeared on Sherlock's face.

"Can we!" He jumped a little.

"Anywhere you want. You choose and I will take you there!" He hummed.

"Umm…" Sherlock frowned. He wanted it to be perfect, he grinned as he thought of a good place to go. "January 2014! I want to see if The Mayans were right about the world ending!"

The Doctor just grinned. "2014 It is then! Hold on tight, you two!" He thwacked the final lever and then they were off.

~O~

_2014_

The TARDIS landed and The Doctor grinned at Sherlock. "Well. Go and take a look."

Sherlock smiled brightly and ran to the door. He opened it and then slammed it shut and screamed loudly.

The Doctor blinked rapidly. "What…"

"THERE IS A FLYING DRAGON! THERE ARE DRAGONS IN 2014!" He flailed some.

The Doctor blinked more. "What.. Dragon's...? There is no such thing as dragon's… on earth anyway.."

"WELL WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT!" Sherlock screamed.

Donna smirked and looked at The Doctor. "Perhaps you landed your baby at the wrong place again." She smirked. "Wouldn't be the first time that's happened. I'm starting to suspect you really don't know how to fly it."

"Oi! I know how to fly it perfectly!" He grumbled. "Sometimes the TARDIS knows that someone needs help and she takes me there, despite where I want to go."

"Mmhhmm." Donna hummed. "Keep telling yourself that." She smirked and the Doctor rolled his eyes.

"HELLO!" Sherlock yelled and waved his arms. "Dragon! Outside! Now!"

The Doctor frowned again and walked to the door. He slowly opened it and blinked, "Sherlock… There isn't a dragon out here…"

Sherlock poked his head out and screamed again as he pointed. "THERE!" He ducked behind The Doctor.

The Doctor just started laughing hysterically and Sherlock frowned. "What…?" He huffed.

"That isn't a dragon, Sherlock. That's a bus and those are cars. People use them to get places… They are like carriages only they can move without the horses." He smiled and Sherlock blinked rapidly.

"AMAZING!"

"Now would you like us to explore with you?" The Doctor smiled a bit.

"Umm.. If you don't mind I would like to explore by myself…" He whispered.

The Doctor shook his head. "No, that's perfectly fine." He smiled softly. "Just make sure you are back before sunset, yeah? Don't want you getting lost." He snickered a bit and Sherlock nodded.

"Thank you so much!" And with that he ran off to go explore the new world out in front of him.

Sherlock walked around aimlessly, enjoying all of the sights he was looking at. Everything was so different and amazing! He peered in a lot of the shop windows and walked around the streets, looking at the funny little devices most of the humans seemed to have attached to their hands or face. Sherlock wondered what they did and what they were for. He made his way into a park, it was Regents Park and he grinned brightly because the park next to his flat was still here. He looked up at the sky and trees admiring how much they have grown, and how the sky looks exactly the same, when he felt his body colliding into something and then he was falling.

The man underneath him yelped and he quickly got off him. "I am so sorry! I wasn't paying any attention! Are you ok?" Sherlock looked the man up and down. He was holding a cane and he had sandy blond hair. He was wearing a peculiar outfit, but then again so was everyone in this time period.

The man groaned a bit and shifted. His leg was fine… well as fine as it could be. However, his shoulder was killing him. He landed on it and for the average person that would most likely be okay, but for this man it was not. "Yeah, fine." He shuffled a bit and tried to stand up, but Sherlock pushed him back down a bit.

"No you aren't. How's your shoulder? Let me take a look at it." Sherlock reached forward to place a hand on the man's shoulder, but he recoiled and Sherlock quickly brought his hand away. "Sorry…" He looked around awkwardly.

The man blinked and had no idea how the man in front of him knew he hurt his shoulder. He was probably subconsciously grabbing it or something. "It's fine.. Really." The man stood up and stood there awkwardly.

Sherlock stood up as well and grinned. "Hello! What's your name? Can you tell me how cars work?"

"Umm.. John.." John blinked rapidly and then shook his head a bit. The man in front of him was so peculiar and weird. He was dressed so awkwardly and John had a slight feeling that this man was off his rocker. "And yours?

"Oh! How rude of me! My name is Sherlock Holmes!" He hummed. "Now, John, how do cars work!"

John blinked more and then started laughing. "Sorry, mate. You are going about the whole cosplay thing completely wrong."

Sherlock just blinked. "Cosplay..?" He echoed.

"Yeah.. Like when you dress up as your favourite character or something." He shrugged a bit.

"No, really! I am Sherlock Holmes! I'm not dressing up as anybody, but myself! Now I would like to know how cars work, please!" He hummed.

"I don't know.. They just do... And no you aren't Sherlock because he is dead." John rolled his eyes a bit.

"No! You see John I used time travel to get here!" He grinned.

John just stared at him like he was insane. "Alright, mate, how much have you had to drink?"

Sherlock blinked. "I haven't had anything to drink today... My water supply had run out this morning.."

"No, not water! How much alcohol have you had? Any drugs you have taken… Anything.."

"John! How dare you even say that! I have been clean for years now!" He grumbled a bit, but then smiled again. "But you really must tell me how cars work! They obviously just don't go!"

"Well I'm not a mechanic! There is an engine and some gas and then it just goes!" He flailed a bit. "But really… if you're going to cosplay Sherlock Holmes and you want to make it believable you should research him more. You might be able to fool an average person, but not me… I am obsessed with the books a bit." He cleared his throat.

"Books.." Sherlock echoed again and then grinned. "I get turned into books!"

"Not you. Sherlock. The real Sherlock. The one who is rude, and arrogant, and a downright prick. He definitely wouldn't be saying sorry for bumping into me.. That's why I say you need to work on it."

Sherlock's grin faded from his face. "That's what you think of me…"

John sighed and shook his head. "No, that's what everyone thinks of you. I on the other hand have probably read way too much into the books and have come up with my own theory on his personality."

Sherlock blinked. "And what is it?"

"Like hell I'm telling you! You are some random insane man who is claiming to be Sherlock Holmes!" John huffed.

"Fine then I will just go!" He growled a bit.

John swallowed and shook his head. "Nope. I'm a doctor and I really don't feel comfortable with you wandering the streets on your own in this state…"

"And what state is that exactly!" He spat as he glared at John.

John scrubbed at his face. "Nothing… Just- why don't I show you my flat?" He tried.

"I don't wanna go!" He pouted and sniffled a bit.

'Oh my god I am dealing with a high three year old!' John thought bitterly to himself. "I'm sorry if I offended you in anyway… Come on.. I think you'll like my flat!" He hummed and leaned on his cane further.

Sherlock sighed. It would be interesting to see how people lived in this era.. "Fine." He smiled a little. "Lead the way, Doctor." He hummed.

John sighed and led the crazy Sherlock Holmes imposter back to his flat. He pulled out his key and smirked at Sherlock as he stepped up to the door.

"Oh my god! This is my flat!" Sherlock said excitedly.

"Nope. It's mine! They wanted to turn it into a museum, but I bought it before they could." He snickered to himself. "Like I said… Huge fanboy. Also my dad worked in the government before he died a couple of years ago so that's another reason I was able to get this flat." He shrugged a bit and then walked into the 221B Baker Street.

"They wanted to turn my home into a museum.." He blinked rapidly and then grinned. "Woah… That's amazing!"

John rolled his eyes. "Not you! The real Sherlock Holmes, but apparently you feel the need to dress up as him and pretend to be him… I bet you anything that if he wasn't dead you would find him and kill him because you are one of _those_ fans." He sighed and went to the kitchen. "Tea?"

Sherlock huffed and sat down in a chair, but then stood up and started to look around. "That would be lovely, thank you." He smirked as he saw a scratch in the floor. "John! You know this scratch by the fire place?" He grinned.

"Yeah. Why?" He asked as he boiled the water.

"I made it!" he said happily. "God! I can't believe it's still here."

"Mhm," John hummed sarcastically. "Sure you did."

Sherlock just sighed and looked around some more.

"What year did you say you were from?" John asked as he put the milk in the tea.

"Eighteen Ninety." He hummed and picked up the skull. "Is this mine..?" He blinked.

"You mean Sherlock's? I dunno. Maybe..? It came with the flat." He shrugged a bit. John was going to mention something about Sherlock's suicide, but this man was taking his role to heart - well sort of.. His personality was a bit off - and John couldn't bear a breakdown, so he just walked into the kitchen and handed the insane man his tea. He sat down in his own chair and sipped it.

Sherlock grumbled a bit and then took a sip of his tea and smiled brightly. "Oh my! This is so amazing, John! Thank you so much for making me tea and inviting me into your home." He said sincerely.

"See… You're doing it all wrong… You have to be rude…" John said with a sigh.

"So that's how you see me then? As a rude and heartless bitter man, who happens to be a complete bastard and doesn't care about anybody's feelings!"

"Yes…. and no…." He smirked a bit.

"I can't believe you! You don't even know him!" He growled.

John broke into a smile. Finally! This man was arguing with him about Sherlock and he was using 'him' instead of 'me'. He had broken character and John was thankful for that for some strange reason. "I know him perfectly." He hummed. "I've read each book ten times through.. Some more than others." He smiled a bit.

"NO! You don't know him at all! You think you do, but no one does! No one, but me!" he grumbled.

"I do know him. Sherlock Holmes is a rude, arrogant man, who closes himself off to the world. He is lonely and he has absolutely no one. It's just him and his cases. I don't think he had a good child life and because of that he lashes out when he gets older because he has the upper hand. He yells at people and tells them horrible, horrible things because he doesn't want anyone to get close to his heart because in his little, but brilliant and amazing brain caring isn't an advantage. Not one bit. Caring is going to lead him to getting hurt eventually and he can't stand the thought of that, but that's because Sherlock Holmes has the biggest heart I could possibly imagine.

"He's like a really dry pie… You first meet him and you try and dig passed his layer of crust, but underneath that crust is just more crust! Nobody like a dry pie, but you know what some people really, really like pie.. So you dig passed that first layer of crust to get to more crust. Then you keep digging through the crust only to discover you have hit more crust and you keep hitting crust for about twelve layers of crust and just when you think that this pie doesn't have any filling you break the crust and the rich, warm apple filling is just within your reach…

"Sherlock is like a really dry pie. You keep having to break off his layers of crust before you get to the centre of his heart. He doesn't let just anyone in.. You have to be special, but sadly no one in his life really, really liked pie… So after the third or fourth layer they just gave up. They figured that that pie didn't have any filling and that it was just a pan full of crust. I know that's not true… and to be honest it pains me that he died not knowing that he could be loved. Thinking that no one cared for him and that life just sucked. That he was unlovable… Because that isn't the case at all." John whispered and swallowed and then looked down.

Sherlock was crying. This man, a man that he had never met before in his life, had understood him. He had gotten everything right! Even though he compared him to pie Sherlock didn't even care… He ran to John and wrapped his arms tightly around him. "Thank you, John… So much.." He swallowed hard.

John blinked. "Umm.. You're welcome…?" He awkwardly wrapped his arms around this strange man that was hugging him and didn't exactly know what to do.. Eventually the man pulled away and John awkwardly picked up _A Study in Scarlet_ and opened it up. He had recently started re-reading them again.

Sherlock blinked. "What's that..?"

"What this...? Oh it's just one of Sherlock's books. The first one ever written actually."

Sherlock looked out the window and frowned when he saw that the sun was setting. "John..? Can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah, sure, what is it, mate?" He asked without looking up from his book.

"Do you believe that I'm Sherlock now?"

"Mmmmmm, nooooppppeee." John drew it out as he continued to read.

Sherlock huffed and then smiled at John. "Well, John, thank you so much for you little speech on Sherlock Holmes. It has been quite inspiring and I hope to see you again soon one day." He smirked and then reached out to snatch the book away from John. "Bye!" He sung and then ran out of the flat with then book still in his hands. He knew how he was going to make him believe!

John blinked rapidly after Sherlock and then frowned. "Bloody bastard stole my book!"

~O~

The Doctor smiled as he saw Sherlock running towards the TARDIS. "Oh good! Right on time! I thought I was going to have to come and find you."

Sherlock grinned and clutched the book to his chest. "Nope! Here I am! I would like to go home now please!" He smiled happily.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow and frowned. "What do you have in your hands..?"

"Nothing!" He said quickly. "Home. Now. Please!" He smiled brightly and The Doctor sighed.

"Alright. Come on." He smiled and took a very eager Sherlock back home.

After that Sherlock and John crossed paths again. Sherlock never saw the TARDIS again and he never saw John, and even though it hurt Sherlock it was all fine.


	2. Chapter 2

**OMFG IM UPDATING THIS ONEEEEEE WHATTTT?**

**GUYS IT WAS MY BIRTHDAY ON SUNDAY... BEST DAY EVAAAAA**

**BUT THEM MONDAY AND TODAY HAVE BEEN ABSOLUTE SHIT! IM SO ANGRY SOMEONE CHEER ME UP NOW!**

**OKAY ON WITH THE STORY! ((: **

Chapter Two

_2010_

John Watson walked into his new flat with a grin on his face. He hummed and set one of his boxes down on the kitchen table. John pulled out his kettle and went to make himself a cuppa. He filled up the kettle and then went to the bedroom to start unpacking.

He couldn't help but hum at the fact that he was able to buy 221B. The flat! Sherlock Holmes' flat. He felt like he could fly and he couldn't remember a time that he was this happy. He got halfway through with the first box when he frowned slightly and squinted at the wall. He walked over to wall slowly and then bent down.

On the floorboards next to the wall his name was scratched into them. He frowned and ran his fingertips over the four letter word. It didn't make sense... he didn't know why his name was scratched into the floorboards. Someone must have done it as a joke because they knew he was moving in. He sighed and stood up, but when his foot put pressure on the floorboard it squeaked. He swallowed hard and knelt back down, it was getting rather tedious because his leg hurt, but if the floorboard was loose he wanted to see what was under it – if anything.

He set his cane down on the floor and used his key to lift up the floorboard; inside of it was a box. He swallowed hard and pulled out the box and set it in front of him. His body was hot and was sweating a bit because surely this was just some cruel joke, but there was so much dust... they couldn't fake dust and no one knew he was going to move in here long enough for there to be dust.

John took a deep breath as opened the lid to the box and he peered inside. John's hand didn't shake one bit as he reached in and grabbed a very used and worn book of Sherlock Holmes, _A Study in Scarlet_ to be exact. He slowly opened the book and frowned even more because inside on the first page were the words

_This book belongs to John Watson. If found I expect you to take care of it. I have many copies so don't bother finding me just to give it back. Please read it and experience the joy that can come from these stories._

John didn't understand because it was in his handwriting and he knew for a fact that he had just unpacked this book and put it away on his shelf. Even if he hadn't and this really was his book, it wouldn't have been dusty and yellow around the edges. This book looked like it had been read every night for a long time and then stuffed in a box for a hundred years.

John took a shaky breath and kept fiddling with the book when something suddenly fell out of it. He looked down and realised it was a piece of paper. He picked it up and unfolded it slowly. He closed his eyes and then opened them as he began to read, his heart was pounding.

_Dear John,_

_I'm terribly sorry that I have stolen your book, but it was the only way. My name is Sherlock Holmes and we met on January 23, 2014. I told you my name and you would not believe who I was. You told me I was 'cosplaying'. John, I'm sorry, but I still have no idea what that even means. I needed to prove to you that it was me. You said you were a fan – I don't really know what that is either... but I'm going to assume that it means you admire me. _

_If you would like to meet me again I will be there January 23, 2014 at 13:00. I'll be in a blue police box and it will be landing on the corner of Harley Street and Marylebone Road. I expect to see you again... however, I suppose that if you don't show up I will never know. Unfortunately I fear that I won't get to see you again in this life time. _

_Sincerely,  
>Sherlock Holmes.<em>

John's breath caught in his throat and he felt like he couldn't breathe. None of this made any sense at all... Time travel wasn't possible, but yet the state of the book and all the dust suggested otherwise. Plus, the letter was also starting to turn yellow and crispy from age... those were things you couldn't fake!

He slowly put the box back underneath the floorboard and put the note in his pocket. He would keep it with him always... he didn't know why, and he didn't know if it was a fake, but it meant something to him.

~O~

_2012_

John sat at the coffee shop sipping his tea and reading the paper, the note he found under his floorboard two years ago was still resting in his pocket. He never had it off of him except for when he was sleeping and even then it laid right next to him on his night stand.

It had been two years since he found it and he only had to wait two more years until he was able to tell if it was a cruel prank or not. He didn't like to think of it as being a prank because he didn't know if he could handle that. He still read Sherlock Holmes' book regularly, just waiting for the day he got to meet the man that made it all possible.

~O~

_2014_

The day had finally come and John couldn't get up fast enough. He got dressed in his best jumper and messed with his hair with what seemed like hours. He took a deep breath and grabbed his keys then walked out of his flat. He held the note in his hands as he made his way over to where Sherlock had told him to meet. He reread that note over and over again so he basically had it memorised. John showed up and sat down on a bench to rest his leg.

He still had to use his cane, but he didn't mind all that much because it had been years since he had first gotten the cane so he had just gotten used to it. He was hours early, but he couldn't help it. He didn't want there to be any chance that he would be missing the blue box so he made sure he arrived early.

Hours later the wind started swirling around John and a wheezing sound joined the sudden change in the wind. He frowned slightly, but then slowly started to see a blue box appearing and then disappearing until it was finally solid. The wind seemed to stop and the wheezing had ended. John swallowed and stood up as he walked closer to the doors. He didn't know if he should open them or not, but what he did know was that his heart was pounding inside his chest and it was incredibly hard to think. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath when the door squeaked opened and a head popped out.

The strange man screamed and poked his head back inside, slamming the door. John frowned as he heard him yell something about dragons. John didn't really understand what the man with the curly hair was talking about because there were clearly no dragons around. Suddenly, the door opened again and a different man popped out, this man had spiky brown hair. He frowned and shook his head, "Sherlock... There isn't a dragon out here..."

John gasped softly as he realised the man who freaked out in the first place was Sherlock. He couldn't help but smile brightly as Sherlock kept talking to the other man. Eventually Sherlock stepped out of the TARDIS and looked right at John who was grinning at him.

"Can I help you...?" Sherlock frowned.

"Yes!" John hummed and hobbled forward a bit. "Are you Sherlock Holmes?"

Sherlock blinked and nodded slowly, "Yes, how do you know who I am..."

"Well, you're sort of famous... You have books about you solving cases and such, but I know you because of – well..." He swallowed hard and then handed Sherlock the note.

Sherlock frowned as he slowly took it and read it. He seemed to read over it a couple of times before he finally looked up. "So, I take it we have met before, yes?"

John nodded slowly, "Except in another lifetime... so I don't remember the meeting, but apparently you stole my book..." He smirked a bit, "How rude."

Sherlock scoffed and looked at him, "I don't even remember stealing it so you can't possibly hold me accountable!" He huffed and smirked slightly.

John hummed and rolled his eyes slightly, "So, what do you want to do?"

Sherlock frowned and looked around, "Umm, what exactly is there to do?"

"Well, a lot of things... hmm... why don't we just walk around and you tell me what interests you? Okay?"

"Alright," He hummed and nodded slowly.

~O~

They walked around for what felt like hours just talking about nothing, but yet everything at the same time. Sherlock had never been so happy in his whole life. This man seemed to understand him for him and he really enjoyed his company... he hated everyone's company so why was John so different? Maybe it was just because it was a different time period so he was more accepting. Whatever it was, he didn't care. He was happy.

His hand brushed against John's, but before either one had time to react Sherlock was sniffing the air like a mad man, "Oh my god... what's that smell?"

John stopped talking midsentence and smelt the air as well. He grinned and then looked at Sherlock, "Those, Sherlock Holmes, are hotdogs." He hummed. "It's an American thing, but sometimes there will be random stands out."

"But if it's American, why is it here?" He frowned slightly.

"Surprisingly we have a lot of their food... along with Chinese, Mexican, Italian, French... and so on and so forth." He hummed.

He frowned more, "Well, that's weird... can I try this hotdog..? Don't tell me it's made of actual dog..."

John choked on air, "Oh, God no! However, I won't tell you what it's actually made of..." He chuckled and grabbed Sherlock's hand to pull him to the stand.

Sherlock frowned slightly, but held his hand anyway and ran with him. They got to the stand and John pulled out ten pounds to buy two hotdogs. He practically choked on air and shoved John back, "John! Why are they so much? Are they made of gold?!" He blinked rapidly.

John frowned a bit, "Sherlock, that's normal... It's fine don't worry about it." He pressed forward to go pay for them.

Sherlock swallowed hard, "John... That's really a lot of money... please don't..."

John sighed, "It might be where you come from, but ten pounds for two hotdogs is actually a really good deal." He smiled and purchased them anyway. He handed one to Sherlock and grinned, "I like mine with ketchup and mustard, but some people just like it with mustard." He shrugged and walked over to the sauces.

Sherlock pursed his lips as John put the red stuff and yellow stuff on his hotdog. He assumed that one was ketchup and the other was mustard, but he wasn't sure which was which. Slowly, he picked it up and ate it and then his eyes widened. "Oh my goodness... this is so amazing." He groaned softly and practically downed the whole thing.

John laughed and rolled his eyes, "I take it you liked it." He hummed and finished his. "They aren't my favourite, but they are doable." He shrugged some and started walking again. "So, where would you like to go?"

Sherlock looked around and then choked on air, "Can we go on that?" He whispered, pointing to The London Eye.

John hummed, "Of course we can." He took Sherlock's hand again and together they walked over to The Eye to get their tickets.

"JOHN! Why is everything so much money?!" He blinked rapidly as he looked at the prices.

"Sherlock, it's fine... I'm a doctor. I get paid a lot..." He smiled softly and purchased two tickets.

"We'll yeah, but still... Sixty pounds?!" Sherlock flailed about.

John giggled, "Things are different here. Things are a lot more money, but we also get paid a lot more," He smiled softly.

He frowned some and nodded slowly, "Well, if you say so..." He whispered and waited patiently.

John rolled his eyes as he smiled at the mad man. He purchased his tickets and then grabbed Sherlock's hand as they went to the queue.

Eventually, it was their turn to step into one of the pods. John grinned as he pulled Sherlock into it, a bunch of other people came in as well, but Sherlock paid them no attention. He walked over to the glass and practically pressed his face into it as it started to go up.

John smiled softly as he watched the man. His heart was pounding so badly and he couldn't believe that this was actually happening. This was the man he had been obsessed with since he was a little boy. This was the man who had protected him from the nightmares and the bullies. He was jolted out of his thoughts when Sherlock practically ran him over. He blinked and stared at him.

"Sorry! I was trying to go to the other side of this pod thing and I didn't see you there!" He smiled softly and couldn't seem to take his eyes away.

John gave him a lopsided smile and shrugged, "It's alright." He hummed and then did something that he probably should have thought twice about. He smiled as he wrapped his arms around Sherlock's waist and pulled him in close so that Sherlock's back was pressing against John's stomach. He buried his face into Sherlock's back and just breathed him in. Sherlock smelt so lovely and delightful, he smelt like smoke and spice and everything that just summed up Sherlock. John didn't really know how to describe it, but it was intoxicating.

Sherlock blinked a bit as he stared out the window. He didn't really understand why John was hugging him – or why he would want to – but it felt nice. It felt really nice and no one had ever touched him like this before... he only ever got hugs from his mother and those stopped when he was fairly young. Sherlock had always thought that he disliked touch, and when random people brushed up against him it honestly made his skin crawl, but here John was, touching him, and he craved it. He closed his eyes slightly as he just felt John's strong arms around him.

"Sherlock?" John asked breaking the silence.

"Yes, John?" He whispered softly as he kept his eyes closed.

"Just out of curiosity... what year are you from?" John didn't know why he was asking, but he wanted to know where Sherlock was in his journey of solving crimes.

Sherlock hummed slightly and slowly put his hands over John's, "1890. It's so different where I come from. Your time is nice, but I do miss the simplicity of mine... everything here seems so complex." He huffed slightly.

John had stopped listening as soon as he heard Sherlock say the year he was from. He wanted to throw up and he couldn't help, but feel completely sad and heartbroken for the man.

Sherlock frowned a bit when he felt John's arms tighten around him, "John... Are you okay?"

"W-what? Yeah... sorry..." He swallowed thickly and breathed him in again. Sherlock only had a year to live... 1891 was the year he committed suicide... That story always made John feel empty and heartbroken, but he still loved it all the same. However, knowing that Sherlock only had a year to live made him want to hold on to the man and never let go.

Sherlock frowned more and squeezed his hand, "It's alright... I promise." He didn't know what was alright and he didn't know what he was promising, but it felt like the right thing to say.

John breathed a breathy laugh and nodded. He supposed it didn't even matter because after Sherlock left tonight he wouldn't get to see him again...

Sherlock was silent for a while and then his eyes widened, "Drat." He grumbled some and turned around to face John.

"What?" John whispered quietly.

"The sun is setting... I fear our time is up..." He swallowed thickly and looked down at the shorter man.

John wanted to cry even more, "I don't want it to be..."

"Nor do I, but I'm afraid that I have no other choice." He swallowed hard as he wrapped his arms around John and just held him until it was time to walk out of the pod.

They held hands as they walked back to the blue box that was still waiting for Sherlock. The man with the spiky hair grinned and walked towards them, "OH! I knew you'd come back! Donna didn't believe me." He hummed, "Oh! And look! You made a friend! What's your name then?"

John gave a sad smile, "John Watson."

The Doctor's face fell completely and he nodded once, "Well... I'll give you a minute then. Just come back inside when you're ready, Sherlock." He smiled softly and then walked away, pulling Donna into the TARDIS.

"So this is it then?" John whispered quietly and looked down at his feet.

Sherlock was silent for a long time before he finally spoke again, "It doesn't have to be..." He whispered back.

John frowned and looked up at him, "What do you mean?"

"You could come with me..." He breathed and rubbed his thumb over John's knuckles.

John swallowed and looked so conflicted, but he finally shook his head, "No... Sherlock, I can't... I- my life is here, my family... As much as I admire you and care for you... I can't leave..." He whispered quietly. "I'm sorry."

"Oh..." He whispered sadly and wouldn't look at John. "Well, I guess I'll see you around..." He swallowed thickly and then stuck out his hand, "Goodbye, John."

John choked a bit and slowly grabbed Sherlock's hand and shook it, "Goodbye..." He whispered so quietly he wasn't even sure if Sherlock had heard him.

Sherlock nodded once and then he walked to the TARDIS without looking back.

~O~

The Doctor closed the doors to the TARDIS and started fiddling with the machine. Donna frowned slightly as she watched him because he was so chipper and happy a few minutes ago and now he was wearing the face that he wore when he couldn't save someone. "What's wrong?" She said softly and came up next to him.

The Doctor was silent for a long time before sighed and scrubbing his face, "John Watson. That's what's wrong." He huffed.

"So Sherlock made a friend... what's wrong with that?"

"There are many, many parallel universes... In most of them, actually almost all of them, It's always Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. This is one of the few universes that just has Sherlock in the stories... I find it upsetting that he happened to still meet John even though they are a hundred years apart. It's like they're meant to be together or something, but unfortunately in this universe it's not going to last.

"I just- I know what it's like being alone and the fact that he has no one in this universe is a bit upsetting... and the fact that the person that he spends all his time with in the other worlds is standing right next to him, but that's it... he'll go home alone."

Donna opened her mouth to say something, but Sherlock walked in. She closed her mouth and smiled at him, "Ready to go?" She hummed.

Sherlock walked over to the seat and picked up the book that John had handed him when the TARDIS had first landed. He closed his eyes as he held the worn book to his chest and nodded slowly, "Yes..." He didn't really have a choice.

The Doctor nodded and then the TARDIS was jerking. Sherlock fell on the floor, but just stayed there because he didn't want to move. He felt empty and he was so angry with himself for coming to a different time, but yet at the same time he wouldn't have it any other way. It was so confusing to him.

The TARDIS eventually stopped and Sherlock walked out after saying goodbye and thank you to The Doctor. He wasn't angry with the man, he was actually rather grateful. He smiled softly and walked back to 221b Baker Street. He had some work to do.

**It's still not the end of the story! But awww aww awwwwwww isnt it so cute? I'm peeling!**

**peeling is an inside joke... with myself... wow im fucking lame.**

**I GET TO GO HOME AND DONT HAVE TO LIVE IN FUCKING MISSOURI ANYMORE OMFG IM SO EXCITED! NEXT STOP LONDON!**

**okay until next time bitches!**

**DEUCES!**


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